


Aimlessness and Inevitability

by pirateboots



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateboots/pseuds/pirateboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke's voluntary exile comes to an end when fate plays its hand and leads her to the one person on Earth who can understand her pain. She finds Lexa, who's been forced to contend with the aftermath of her decision at Mount Weather and finds herself revisiting familiar places. When the pair reunite and go to Polis together, it must be as a united front.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Voluntary Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke has been wandering through the woods and torturing herself over what she did at Mt Weather. She finds out that she has not been alone on her journey and that fate seems to be pulling her in a certain direction

Chapter One: Voluntary Exile

Clarke had been walking at a steady pace for a week. Physically, she wasn't pushing herself. She’d do most of the walking in the middle of the day, when the weak winter sun was as high in the sky as it was going to get. When she had turned her back on the Camp, she had done so with no forethought. She had no pack, no tent. She wouldn't have survived this week if Bellamy hadn't of caught up with her forty minutes into her exile carrying a backpack. She thought he had come after her to convince her to turn back around. Instead he handed her the backpack with a nod, asked her to be careful and left her alone. Clarke was grateful to him for that.

The pack contained the necessary equipment to survive in the woods for a while, but not forever. She had a one-man tent and a blanket to ward off the night time chill, a flint to make fire. There was a canister so that she could fill it up whenever she passed a water source. The biggest problem was the food. The pack contained only nuts and berries and a few strips of smoked meat that Clarke had eaten first before they went off. There was only enough to last a fortnight at most, and that relied on Clarke being stingy. Eventually she would run out and would have to start worrying about foraging and in the long run, hunting. Since she had no real expertise at gathering her own food, Clarke wanted to put off that eventuality for as long as possible. She was careful not to exert herself anymore than she needed to. All in all her progress along her chosen path, one that ran roughly North West, was slow and that suited Clarke just fine. It wasn't as if she had anywhere to be. She’d removed herself from the only place she belonged down here on Earth.

The thought of everyone back at Camp Jaha struck Clarke again, as it had so many times on this self imposed exile. The initial rush of comfort she got from picturing her friends, safely back together, was quickly displaced. A powerful wave of guilt took Clarke as the memory of what she had had to do to get them there resurfaced yet again. Whilst the physical toll on Clarke’s body was minimal during this aimless trek, the mental one was anything but. Clarke knew she was punishing herself, driving herself further and further down into a blackened pit. But how could she stop? How could she stop thinking of herself as a monster who had, without mercy, taken so many lives? How could she ever stop wondering if there had been another way?

Most of all Clarke didn’t know how she could satisfy these remnants of her eroding moral compass with such a simple answer. She had done what was necessary and would do so again if it meant saving her people. That was the only conclusion Clarke could reach in the circular argument she’d been having with herself from the moment she'd left Camp Jaha. It was that conclusion that was threatening to finally break Clarke’s soul. She was going to have to make a decision as to whether it was worth keeping this self-imposed guilt trip going. Or whether it was better to admit defeat and resign herself to becoming a lifeless husk, a shadow. Either way, she doubted she’d ever be able to find it in herself to return to Camp, let alone take back responsibility for the safety of the people that called it home.

“I bear it so they don’t have to.” Clarke repeated to herself and the surrounding woods. The woods gave no reply of course. The rustling of leaves and the pitter patter of light rain that had been falling since the early hours of the morning were the only company Clarke kept.

Clarke had entertained the notion of returning to Mount Weather in the hopes of it bringing closure. Perhaps she could give the bodies a funeral. After a day of walking towards the mountain Clarke had changed her mind however. The only logical way to cremate so many bodies would be to set the whole mountain ablaze. That would make any useful supplies still in there impossible to obtain. Even though she had made a decision not to lead the sky people anymore, her thoughts were still centred on how they would stay safe. The treasures inside the mountain were still there for the taking. Unless the grounders decided that they wanted to cremate the bodies of the mountain men themselves, in payment for the thousands of grounder lives lost over the years. It would certainly be their right to. Clarke imagined her people and the grounders going to the mountain together to collect supplies and cremate the dead, but this idea made Clarke laugh aloud. No, the alliance between the two groups had ended the moment the Commander had taken the mountain men’s deal. She'd ordered her army to retreat, leaving the few dozen sky people to most be killed along with those still in the mountain.

Lexa. For all Clarke’s mental acrobatics regarding her own choices at the mountain, the Commander’s decision was one thing that Clarke refused to let herself dwell on. She didn't need to add feelings of betrayal and- dare she think it, heartbreak- to her feelings of guilt and hopelessness. Anytime Clarke’s train of thought had started to veer towards the Commander, Clarke had stopped herself. Usually by returning to the start of her internal battle and reexamining once again her own decisions. But this was of course infuriating because in doing this, Clarke had turned Lexa into a sort of mental roadblock. A locked door in her mind that forced her to retrace her steps and start all over on whatever she was trying to achieve on this long walk to nowhere in particular.

Maybe it was time to bite the proverbial bullet after all. A week of mulling over her decision to pull the lever and irradiate level 5 of Mount Weather had left Clarke feeling no better. Musing about the Commander instead might be a welcome break. ‘Be angry at someone other than yourself for a while’ Clarke figured. But there was the problem. White hot anger towards the Commander had lasted only minutes. Then the determination to get her people out of the mountain had forced Clarke to forget all about Lexa’s betrayal. And now, with the blood of over three hundred people on Clarke’s hands she couldn’t hate Lexa for what she did. Or rather any hate that she did feel was of the petty sort, a knee-jerk reaction to being hurt by someone she cared about. The same sort of proud hate that had allowed her to hold a grudge against Wells for so long. It was personal and against the logic of looking at the bigger picture.

By taking the deal, Lexa had done exactly what she’d set out to do when she’d marched her army to the foot of the mountain; rescued her people. And she had done this with minimal bloodshed, exactly as Clarke wanted it, ironically. Clarke knew that it was the only choice that a leader could make in that situation, when the safety of the people under their protection came before anything else. But more than that, and this was really why Clarke could not muster any hatred for Lexa, that decision had saved Lexa from being backed into the same corner Clarke had found herself in. How many similar calls had Lexa already made in the past? The missile was one. Lexa had already lost over two hundred people to the war before they’d even marched on the mountain. Whilst Clarke had agreed with Lexa’s decision not to warn the inhabitants of TonDC, it was at the end of the day Lexa’s call. It was Lexa’s people that were sacrificed. But there had been more times like that in the past too. Here Clarke was, in self imposed exile, whilst goodness knows what was going on back at camp. But Lexa had no choice but to shoulder the decisions she’d made and continue to lead her people. They believed her to be spiritually chosen for the role, being unfit for Command would only spell her death. Lexa didn’t have the luxury of being able to walk away.

Now Clarke understood why the walls that Lexa had built around herself were so important. They were keeping a young woman, no older than Clarke, sane. Clarke knew that Lexa was anything but heartless. In fact it now seemed cruel that the commander’s spirit had chosen someone with such a huge capacity for love and compassion to be it’s newest vessel. And Clarke had been chiselling away at those walls. Lexa’s decision at the mountain had gone from an ideal outcome for the Commander, to one that had caused her significant emotional pain. Clarke could envision the look that Lexa had given her in the seconds between her saying ‘may we meet again’ and turning to walk away. Whilst the rest of her face remained as stoic as ever, Lexa’s eyes revealed nothing but pain. Clarke had gotten so used to staring into those eyes to gather clues as to what Lexa was really feeling at any given time. Even when the cold mask of the Commander remained otherwise faultless. She’d become quite adept at reading the thousands of words being communicated through those eyes even when Lexa spoke so little. And in those seconds Clarke could see conflict, heartbreak, and regret. What damage Lexa had done to Clarke when she turned and retreated the Commander had also done to herself. They were a burden to each other.

So lost was Clarke in her thoughts about Lexa, that she did not notice the root in her path. Her foot got caught and she went flying forward with a loud yelp, only just getting her hands up in time to save face planting on to the ground. The pain of landing her full weight on her hands shot up through her arms. There was tarmac, an old road, under the thin layer of vegetation so the landing was harder than it would have been deeper in the wood. And Clarke thought she had been clever to roughly follow the remains of the road as it had made it easier to avoid going in circles. Or worse ending up back at Camp Jaha which would of been embarrassing as well as painful.

Clarke was about to pick herself up when she became aware of the sound of someone running towards her. Without hesitating, she drew the gun she’d been carrying from it’s holster. She rolled onto her back, aiming the weapon in front of her. The man that had been running towards her skidded to a halt at the sight of the weapon and put his hands in the air. Judging by his rough fur lined clothing and the bow and quiver upon his back, he was a grounder.

“Please don’t shoot, Clarke of the Sky people! I mean you no harm!”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Clarke questioned, not lowering the weapon.

“My name is Aldrin. I am a scout of the Trigedakru. I remember you from TonDC,” the man, Aldrin, replied. Aldrin’s eyes were sharp and intelligent. His command of gonasleng, English, was excellent. He looked to be in his early twenties, with dark brown skin and a shaved head almost completely covered by tattoos. They were a similar swirling design to the Commander’s, rather than the tribal patterns worn by grounders from TonDC. Perhaps he and Lexa were from the same village. ‘Alexandria’, Clarke remembered the Commander telling her. It was less than three hours away from TonDC, but Lexa had said she hadn’t been back there since becoming Commander.

Clarke picked herself up from the ground, keeping her weapon raised as she did. She wiped her muddy free hand on her pants leg and then gripped tight to the strap of her pack, just in case Aldrin had designs on relieving her of her lifeline. “And why were you following me, Aldrin?”

Aldrin seemed to waver at the question, trying to decide what to tell Clarke, “I was not following you. I must simply take the same path to get to Polis.”

“Bullshit.” Clarke spat, “If you know the path then you would have overtaken me. There’s no reason for you to move as slowly as me unless you were following.”

Aldrin smiled then, as if he was pleased with Clarke’s intuition. “Very well, Clarke. I was following you. The Commander dispatched myself and one other scout to recon Camp Jaha and bring back word of any survivors from the mountain.”

“So where’s the other guy? Skulking in the trees?”

“No. He returned immediately to tell the Commander that you had succeeded in rescuing your people. We overheard sky people saying that you had killed all the mountain men, is it true?”

“Yes.” Clarke responded curtly. She wasn’t ready to discuss Mount Weather with a stranger.

“Jus drein jus daun,” Aldrin said quietly. “A just kill, Clarke of the Sky people, the mountain men answered for their crimes against the skaikru.”

“You still haven’t explained why you are following me.” Clarke said forcefully, ignoring Aldrin’s appraisal of her decision. And she thought she already knew the answer to her query but wanted to hear it from Aldrin anyway.

“When the Commander dispatched us, she made it clear to us that should you have survived the mountain, we were to ensure your safety. Following you when you walked away from your camp was the only way to do that. The woods are dangerous.”

Clarke laughed at that statement.

“It is no laughing matter, Clarke. I have killed several wild animals that got too close to you whilst you slept. You should not be going to Polis unattended.”

“I- thank you.” Clarke stuttered out. She thought she’d just had some much needed good luck when she hadn’t run into any trouble. Did that make the Commander her good luck charm? “Wait, you keep mentioning Polis. I didn’t intend to travel there.”

Aldrin looked puzzled by this, “But you have not veered from this path. It is an old path that runs from TonDC to Polis. I thought you were tracking our army, you are half a day behind them. You’d have caught up already had you pace been quicker.”

Now that Aldrin had mentioned it, the signs of recent heavy use of the path became immediately clear to Clarke. The thin layer of vegetation that had reclaimed the road had been trampled flat, obviously by the steady march of an army. She had wandered thoughtlessly past abandoned log fires that would have disintegrated already had they not been so recent.

“It seems fate is pulling you towards our capital, Clarke of the Sky people, you would do best not to ignore it. I will stay close for the rest of the journey. If we hurry we might catch up with the army in the town of Gowma, a days march away from the gates of Polis. By my estimate, the army will have arrived there this morning and will rest up before completing their journey.”

Clarke considered this. Maybe she didn’t believe in fate quite as resolutely as the grounders did. Still, finding out that she’d been walking towards the place that the Commander had invited her to before things went south was one hell of a coincidence. It occurred to Clarke then that Lexa was the only person on Earth who could truly understand what Mount Weather had done to Clarke. In all the time they’d spent together, Lexa had offered nothing but words of wisdom. Her own people had leveled judgement after judgement upon Clarke, questioning at every turn. She could use a place where she would not be judged right now. Someone she cared about telling her that, yes the decision was on Clarke, but yes it was the right one. And hadn't she just ended up flat the floor at the thought of how much Lexa must be hurting right now? It was going to be painful to look into those soulful eyes again but Clarke knew that this aimless journey of hers had an inevitable destination. Polis. Lexa. Peace?

“Alright.” Clarke said, holstering the gun that had dropped to her side some time ago, “Lead the way.”

She fell into step behind Aldrin with new purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's POV.  
> Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome. This is the first long fic I've written in a good while, so I hope you enjoy it.  
> Find me as pirateboots on Tumblr if you have a burning desire to swap and discuss headcanons, my ask box is always open :)


	2. Overdue Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa must revisit familiar places from her past in order to secure safe refuge for the rescued survivors from Mt Weather. She decides to visit someone she hasn't seen in two years.

Chapter Two: Overdue Visits

 

Lexa bowed her head slightly, almost imperceptibly, to the guards as she passed through the mesh gate into Gowma with two attendants. What was left of the army remained outside the village wall, already putting up tents and building cooking fires ready for dinner. Of the thousand warriors that had marched and then retreated from Mt Weather at Lexa’s orders, only six hundred remained. Lexa had left one hundred and fifty behind to help Indra rebuild TonDC. Fifty of her fastest scouts she had sent across the Trigeda. They would spread word of victory and invite those with captured relatives to Polis, in the hopes of reuniting the prisoners with their families swiftly. Another two hundred, warriors from one of the other eleven clans, had started on their way back to their own territories. They'd be carrying news of the current truce with the Mountain Men. A truce that, if her scout was to be believed and Lexa was certain of his honesty, was now moot. Thanks to Clarke of the Sky People a truce no longer mattered, there weren't any Mountain Men left alive to worry about. Clarke. Lexa pushed the thought of the leader of the Sky people quickly from her mind. Being in Gowma was going to be painful enough, she didn’t need anything else wearing at her stoic facade.

Gowma was a lively village that had benefited from it’s proximity to Polis. It was situated on the most direct route between TonDC and the capital. It was a common stopping place for the grounder army whenever it found need to travel to other parts of the Trigeda. Lexa had been here many times in her four years as Commander. But she had remained resolutely outside of the village walls for the last two. To go in to the village was to invite in too many memories that needed to stay quashed. Costia was from Gowma. Costia had been the second to the village’s blacksmith. Lexa made her way swiftly through the village to the meeting place in it’s centre. She could hear a hammer hitting an anvil, no doubt forging a sword, emanating from the blacksmith’s to her right. She refused to look, tightened her jaw and quickened her pace, quelling the burning curiosity to see if it was Costia’s old master working the forge or perhaps a new second.

She’d broken her two year exile from the village because behind her, most walking but many being carried by warriors, were the eight hundred survivors from Mt Weather. Crowding them into the village was going to take a lot of planning and negotiating with residents. But after a week of sleeping in thin tents without enough blankets, the Commander wanted to secure more pleasant sleeping arrangements for those rescued. She’d been studying the survivors carefully over the course of the march. All of them were painfully thin, no doubt fed only enough to keep them alive long enough to be harvested. Lexa’s blood boiled at the thought of what these people, her people, had been subjected to by the Mountain Men. It pained her to even try to guess how many thousands had already been lost before the rescue. But it was over now.

Lexa reached the meeting point. It was no more exciting than a clear area of dirt in the middle of the village, as gloomy as the rest of the village in the late morning drizzle. But it served its purpose. The eight hundred weary prisoners congregated behind their Commander as the whole village began to emerge and jostle for the best view of the meeting circle. The chatter among the residents of Gowma was deafening but the moment Lexa raised her palm into the air, the chatter fell silent. She regarded expectant eyes and prepared to speak. Before she could a loud wail emanated from somewhere in the crowd and a man rushed forward towards the rescued grounders.

“Rik!” the man exclaimed as he barrelled into the arms of one of the eight hundred. The man he had enveloped in a hug looked bewildered for only a second, before his face contorted into joy and he returned the hug.

“Mitchel,” Rik said, “Ai houmon!” My husband. So this was the first of hopefully many happy reunions of a prisoner and a loved one. Lexa allowed herself a small smile and began to address her people in trigedasleng,

“People of Gowma,” she began. Everyone was silent, “Behind me are eight hundred of our people. They have been rescued from Mt Weather.”

Thunderous applause and cheering broke out at this news. Lexa allowed them to continue a while, letting the sounds of pure joy and victory wash over her, cleanse her. She breathed in,

“Our army was successful in its mission. After nearly one hundred years the Mountain Men will hunt us no more.” Lexa decided not to elaborate on the precise fate of the mountain men until she had thought more of what Clarke’s actions meant in the long run. “But whilst we celebrate this victory we must continue to band together. These people are starving, they are weak. After being rescued they faced a long march here and it is another day still to the capital. As your Commander, I could order you to take them in for a day and night and show them the hospitality they have been without. But I shouldn’t have to. They are your people. So I stand here and ask you, people of Gowma, will you help them? “

Today didn’t need a show of her strength Lexa thought, it required a direct appeal to the humanity of her people. A humanity that other groups had tried so hard to ignore but Lexa truly believed existed in great quantity. Grounders were harsh but they were not savages. Their Commander knew that they held the potential to become a largely peaceful people, bit by bit and under the right kind of guidance. Her gaze roamed over the silent crowd. Had she judged wrong? Would she need to issue a command after all?

“I can squeeze a dozen into my home if they don’t mind getting cosy” came a lone reply. “They’ll be fed a good dinner and I will keep a fire going when night falls to warm them.”

Lexa pinpointed the source of the voice. When her eyes met those of the woman that had spoken, the Commander had to work hard not to let her mask slip. It was Pola, Costia’s older sister. Thankfully, Lexa was saved from having to respond to the woman she hadn’t seen in over two years by another voice, offering to take twenty grounders. This was followed by a cacophony of voices, all of them stepping up to offer their hospitality and a roof for the rescued grounders. Lexa silenced them again.

“The spirits of the woods will look favourably upon Gowma for your generosity. Please, everyone who is willing to take in survivors form a line starting here,” she beckoned to a point just in front of her. People began to reorganise themselves. “You will all tell me how many people you can take. I will make sure that many people follow you to your home. Any that are left at the end will be given to a house at random until not a single one is left. Let us begin.”

Lexa needn’t have worried.about leftover survivors. The people of Gowma proved willing to fill their homes to bursting. By the end almost every resident had taken at least a few of the prisoners in. There were none left to take. The village healers, Adam and Bryke, had also agreed to make a call at every home to administer what aid they could to the weakest survivors. Lexa hoped that nearly all of them would be fit to walk to Polis tomorrow morning. After watching one prisoner be reunited with his husband, the Commander was eager to see similar scenes when they reached the capital.

She knew without doubt that she’d made the right decision when taking the deal with the Mountain Men. But even so, seeing the fruits of her labour would only help to ease her discontent at betraying the sky people, betraying Clarke. She had to halt her thoughts again and concentrated instead on watching the shepherding of prisoners to various buildings. Her eyes found the back of Pola’s head as it disappeared into her home, a home that Lexa had dined and even slept in so many times in the past. Her feet started moving towards the familiar place even before her mind realised what she was doing.

She told herself she simply wanted to thank Pola for being the first to offer aid but she knew that really she was looking for a trusted confident. Just because she had thus far refused to dwell on Clarke didn’t mean that all the woman had taught her over the past fortnight had gone to waste. Lexa clenched her jaw again, a tell that she was annoyed with herself. Perhaps she should have ordered the people of Gowma into helping after all. Even the most heartless of people would struggle not to feel a sentimentality at the scene that had just played out. For Lexa, who loathed to admit that she only appeared to be heartless, it had proven impossible not to feel an enormous sense of warmth for her people.

The door had closed before Lexa reached it, so she raised her hand and knocked.

“Aila, can you answer the door please?” come Pola’s voice from inside and a second later, the door was opened by a girl of about twelve.

The girls eyes widened at the sight of Lexa standing there. Lexa reached forward and took the single braid in the girl’s hair into her hand.

“I see you have become a second, Aila. I am proud.” she said and this earned her a smile from Aila.

“Heda...Lexa, I haven’t seen you in so long!”  Without thought that her actions were in any way improper, the girl closed the distance between herself and her Commander and hugged Lexa tightly. Lexa’s attendant’s, who had followed her dutifully to the door, looked at Lexa in surprise, silently questioning what they should do.

“Relax and wait out here,” Lexa ordered and she briefly returned the hug before asking, “Can you take me to your Mother, Aila?”

“Of course, come in,” Aila bustled Lexa into the hall that ran the length of the corrugated iron house and closed the door, leaving the attendants to guard outside. “Mother is getting our guests comfortable, through here.”

Aila led Lexa to the back of the house, where what had once been the living area now looked more like a triage with the dozen grounders each occupying a place on the floor. Pola was already busy handing out blankets to each one. She gave out the last blanket to the grounder closest to the doorway and then turned around.

“Lexa!” just like her daughter, Pola gave no thought to propriety and also came forward to hug Lexa as if she wasn’t her leader. “It is good to see you, I thought you’d never step through our gate again.”

“It isn’t something I wanted to do,” Lexa said as she hugged back and then quickly straightened up. She stood stiffly in a place that had once been like a home to her. “But for the sake of our people…”

“Of course. I am lucky that nobody I care about was taken to the Mountain. But it still means everything to know that my family will be safe in the future,” Pola looked towards Aila when she said this. “So thank you Lexa. Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you, Pola. If you hadn’t of spoken up first I’m not sure anyone would have offered their help.”

“Then you would have commanded us to give our aid.”

“Yes. But I didn’t want to have to.”

Pola smiled, “You haven’t changed, Lexa. That’s good.”

“I think I have, Pola. But recently things have happened…” Lexa trailed off, hesitant to reveal more.

“Is that why you have come to visit?” Pola asked, always perceptive.

Lexa nodded and bit her lip. Just being there made her feel as young as she actually was somehow, “Can I ask for your council, Pola? I need the opinion of someone I can trust. Someone who isn’t a soldier and does not get their pleasure from war.”

“Of course Lexa, you shouldn’t have stayed away so long.”

Pola led Lexa back to the front of the house to the only other room, leaving Aila to continue seeing to the survivors. They sat cross legged on the floor and Lexa began to speak. She told Pola everything she could; about the sky people, about the tenuous alliance of the clans. Also about what happened at the foot of Mount Weather and what Clarke had done to the people inside. The only thing she left out was her feelings for Clarke, but then she didn’t need to. As soon as she stopped talking, Pola looked at her with a sad smile,

“You have feelings for this Clarke? That is why your decision at the mountain has weighed so heavily on you.”

“Yes. I tried to keep my walls up. I know that I was only asking for both of us to get hurt but-”

“But you are a young woman with an awfully big heart, Lexa. Your warriors may see you as their ruthless Commander, but I know you. I watched you fall in love with my little sister and she with you.”

“But then she was taken from us. And I had to grow up and accept that love is weakness, or risk losing my ability to lead.”

“You tried to stop caring. You stopped coming to Gowma. I guess you have barely spoken about Costia since her funeral, if at all.”

Lexa felt her eyes grow moist, but she steeled herself and refused to cry. She steeled herself. “That night, after we cremated Costia’s head… Knowing that her spirit was lost-” she paused when her voice started to crack. The image of Costia’s severed head lying on the ground for her to find had haunted her every day. The Trigedakru believed that separating the head from the body made it impossible for the spirit to survive to be born again. It was the ultimate form of cruelty. They’d even shaved her head so that Lexa could not take her braids as a keepsake. And now here she was, voicing these things aloud.

Once Lexa was sure she could keep her voice even again she continued, “I could not see a way to survive the pain.” Lexa looked down at her hands and began to pick at the dirt in her nails, “Anya found me in my tent, I had cried myself dry. I was laying on the floor. She held me and rocked me like a child.” The mention of Anya made it even harder to keep going. Lexa had barely had the opportunity to come to terms with the fact that the woman who had practically raised her was gone. “But I wasn’t a child. I was the Commander. I pushed her away, asked her how to stop being weak. She told me that I would have to let the pain ease over time. But I didn’t have that luxury. So she told me that the only other way was to stop feeling all together, to push it all to the back of my mind and lock it away. So that is what I did. So that I could lead my people.” Her voice was a cold whisper, the same matter-of-fact tone she had used when she had opened up to Clarke about Costia. She didn’t want anyone in the next room to hear this.

Pola regarded her for a while before she spoke again. “Being the Commander doesn’t stop you from being human, Lexa. No matter how hard you try, eventually the walls that we all build around ourselves will prove to have a weak point and come crashing down around us. You fell in love again,”

“And now I have lost that too. If I hadn’t of been weak, I would still be sleeping soundly. Not lying awake asking questions no Commander should ask. How can I trust myself to lead when the decision between my whole people and one woman was a difficult one? There are warriors who already question my abilities. Can I really say they are wrong in their doubts?”

“Of course you can, because you still made the right decision by your people. And if Clarke is half the leader you are, surely she will understand you and forgive you should your paths cross again. It was not dishonourable.  I would never speak ill of our warriors, they protect us, but they also thrive in times of war. That is who they are. But people like me, ordinary people, only suffer. We see you as a leader who wants long term peace. You have a vision previous Commander’s lacked. You never stopped caring at all, Lexa, you just started caring for your people as a whole at the sacrifice of your own happiness because circumstance asked that of you. But that doesn’t mean that your role as Commander and your happiness as Lexa need always be at odds.”

Lexa considered all that Pola had just said to her and right then and there, began the process of formulating her next move as Commander. “I need to make sure that the alliance of the twelve clans remains strong. And I must ensure the safety of the sky people in the future,” she said aloud,

“There you see. What the Commander needs to do and what you want seem to be perfectly aligned. Don’t be afraid to feel Lexa, it’s why your people love you. Even if you think you appear uncaring, I promise you we see you as the opposite. Clarke obviously saw the same. Find her when you can and figure out a way to protect everything you hold dear. Show your true strength”

Lexa nodded. She did feel much better for talking to someone. It was like choosing to trust Clarke had burst a dam and the river that was Lexa’s true self was once again discovering it’s old unabated course. Of course the fallout was tumultuous, but hopefully it would eventually settle. Or Lexa would rebuild the walls again even stronger than before. But for now she would allow herself to test the water. She would use the brief stop in a familiar place to find out if Pola’s advice to embrace both head and heart together was something that Lexa was strong enough to do.

“Mother?” came Aila’s voice from the doorway, “The guests are all settled and mostly asleep. I should go to work before Shon misses me at the forge.”

“Of course, thank you for helping Aila.”

Aila smiled, nodded and left the house. Lexa turned her head back to Pola,

“She is the blacksmith’s second?”

“She is. One day she’ll be even better than her aunt was. I see you still carry the dagger Costia gave you.”

Lexa gripped the dagger’s exquisitely carved handle, “Always.”

Pola raised her eyebrows and smirked as if this was further proof that Lexa had never truly forgotten how to feel. Lexa supposed it was.

“Thank you for Pola. I need some fresh air.” Lexa said as she picked herself up off of the floor. Pola followed suit,

“Of course. You should go to the clearing, the children still play there. It will do you good to be surrounded by innocence after so many weeks of war. Keep reminding yourself of what you are fighting for, why your sacrifices matter.”

Lexa moved out of the room and opened the front door, “A good idea, Pola. I will go there after I have eaten,” Lexa stepped outside and made to leave,

“And Lexa,” Pola called after her, “Don’t leave it another two years until your next visit. We will always be family.”

 Lexa allowed herself a grin then and she did not worry about who saw it. Whether she found Clarke or not, the leader of the Sky people had had a permanent effect on Lexa. She would never have set foot inside the walls of Gowma today.  She would never have asked for Pola’s help and mended some important bridges, if not for trusting that Clarke’s open compassion wasn’t always without merit. The dam was indeed broken and Lexa needed to stay the new course or sink forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's POV.  
> Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome. This is the first long fic I've written in a good while, so I hope you enjoy it.  
> Find me as pirateboots on Tumblr if you have a burning desire to swap and discuss headcanons, my ask box is always open :)


	3. Turning Corners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finds Lexa in Gowma, but finds she must wait before they can talk. Clarke sees the Commander as she never has before and begins to understand the importance of the bond they now share.

Chapter Three: Turning Corners

The strangers turned travelling companions made good time and reached Gowma mid-afternoon. The rain had finally stopped and a weak winter sun was battling to shine through the clouds. Gowma was concealed by a tall wall and in front of it were rows upon rows of tents. Aldrin had been right to rush them there, they had caught up with the grounder army. The scene was rather comforting. Over the past fortnight, Clarke had spent more time among the Grounder army than at Camp Jaha. After a week of being solitary in uncharted woodland it was a comforting and familiar sight. The camp outside Gowma was however a lot smaller than previously.

“Where’s the rest of the army?” Clarke asked as they approached the nearest row of tents,

“Some were left to rebuild TonDC. A few were sent to other villages to spread news of the rescue of our people, should their families wish to travel to Polis to meet them. And many of the warriors from the other eleven clans have already begun their journey home with news of the truce.”

“But the truce doesn’t exist anymore thanks to me. What’ll happen to the alliance?”

Aldrin shrugged, “I could not say. Certainly having a common enemy helped in keeping the alliance together. But I have faith in the Commander that she will adapt and think of a way to convince the other clans that remaining united is of most benefit.”

“Do you agree with Lexa? With the Commander?”

“Yes. When you are a warrior, it is easy to lose sight of why we are fighting. We enjoy the thrills and spoils of war. But the overall aim is to protect our people when war is the only option left. The history of the twelve clans has been violent but the Commander believes that we can have long lasting peace. I have faith in her spirit.”

Clarke considered this and wrinkled her nose, “I don’t think all your warriors think like that.”

“No. Many think that lasting peace will render them obsolete. They live for war and cannot see any potential for a better life without it. They value strength and ruthlessness but when the time for those things has passed they come to question their roles, their leader, everything.”

“You know, everything I know about your people I know from your army. Before she took the deal, the Commander invited me to Polis, telling me it would change how I thought about you all. I thought I’d already seen enough by knowing her but-”

“But you’ve only seen her being the Commander of our army. She is more than that. She is the leader of all the Trikru and the Trigeda is much more than it’s warriors.” Aldrin finished for her.

Clarke was about to continue the discussion, but she stopped when she realised that they were gathering an audience as they moved through the camp. Grounder warriors were staring intently towards Clarke, some whispering to one another. Eventually one of the older warriors, his black hair long and intricately braided, walked towards Clarke and Aldrin and blocked their path,

“You are skaikru. What business do you have here girl?”

Clarke met his gaze with confidence, “I am Clarke, leader of the sky people. Aldrin’s brought me here to see your Commander.”

At the mention of her name, the whispers grew in intensity. Clarke surveyed her audience. How much did they know about what had happened after their retreat? The warrior turned his attention to Aldrin and began to speak in trigedasleng. Clarke listened intently, hoping she’d picked up enough of the language to understand.

Clarke just about understood enough to fathom that the men were talking about the mountain. It didn’t take a huge leap to assume that word of Clarke’s actions had reached the army and that the warrior was looking for clarification of what exactly had happened. When the warrior turned back to Clarke, his expression had turned from one of hostility to respect. He was obviously pleased with Aldrin’s reply,

“So the Sky People have a backbone after all it would seem.” he spoke in English again,

“Yeah, we are full of surprises,” Clarke replied bitterly. “Maybe you should place greater faith in the judgement of your Commander.”

Now the warrior sneered, “The judgement of our Commander robbed us of our own vengeance.”

“No, it guaranteed your safety and that of you people trapped inside the mountain. The mission was never about vengeance.” Clarke took herself by surprise with the vigour in which she jumped to Lexa’s defence. She was still an injured party after all even if she understood Lexa’s decision.

“And yet you got your people back and took your vengeance.”

Clarke’s nostrils flared in anger, “Don’t you dare! I never wanted vengeance. I was backed into a corner.”

The warrior smiled, “You can tell yourself that Clarke of the Sky People, but my warriors will not believe it. They will see vengeance because that is what they desired. They will see strength because it was absent in their own leader. You would do well to accept our respect, it is not easily won.”

“Can I speak with the Commander?” Clarke said firmly, ending the discussion,

“The Commander is not inside the village at the moment.” the warrior points to his right, “You will find her in a clearing by the stream.”

“I know where he means, follow me Clarke.” Aldrin began walking in the direction that the warrior had pointed and Clarke followed him. As she passed groups of warriors she noticed that some bowed their heads. They continued to whisper among themselves. Clarke turned to Aldrin and saw that he was straining to overhear what was being said. When they cleared the perimeter of the camp and were well out of earshot, he turned to Clarke;

“Opinions among the army are divided it would seem. Many agree with what that warrior said about the Commander, but there are others who recognise that it was she who pushed for the alliance with your people in the first place. They are not convinced that the Commander did not foresee this as a possible outcome.”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

Aldrin stopped walking and turned to face Clarke, “The clearing is a few paces ahead, you should go on alone.”

“Thank you Aldrin. For everything.” Clarke said and then, “May we meet again.”

Aldrin was not familiar with the phrase of course, but Clarke could tell from his smile that he recognised it was a significant thing to say. He turned and left her alone in the woods.

Clarke continued forward, the sound of the stream the warrior had mentioned growing louder. The sounds of children playing also began to echo through the air as she moved into a small clearing by the bank of the stream. Several young grounders, no older than ten by Clarke’s guess, were splashing around in the shallow water under the protective watch of Lexa. Clarke stopped walking, taken aback by the sight of the Commander sat cross-legged on the ground, back resting against a log, looking totally at ease. Her shoulder guard was folded at her side and her long coat was unbuttoned. A boy and a girl perched on the log at either side of her. They were braiding the Commander’s hair.

Part of Clarke wanted to laugh at the idealistic scene before her, but there was another part, a selfish part, that saw red. How could Lexa be so relaxed? Didn’t Clarke deserve the satisfaction of seeing Lexa still suffering for abandoning her? Clarke quickly squashed those thoughts. Appearances were deceptive when it came to the Commander. There was no knowing what turmoil this apparently peaceful scene was masking. Clarke had seen the hurt in Lexa’s eyes as she turned away, even tears, and Clarke knew that that hurt was very real.

“I’m surprised they’ve found enough hair that isn’t already plaited,” Clarke called into the clearing. She watched as Lexa stiffened at the sound of her voice and turned her head slowly, as if worried that she’d imagined it,

“Clarke? What are you doing here?” Lexa asked and Clarke could hear the waiver in her voice.

“We need to talk,” Clarke’s tone was sharp. The little voice was back and it was telling her that she should find it within herself to be angry, to start shouting despite her understanding of why Lexa did what she did. It would feel better to lay blame somewhere other than at her own feet and that fact was fuelling the petty devil on Clarke’s shoulder.

“We do.” Lexa stated simply,

“Why-” Clarke began but she was cut off as Lexa gave her a small shake of the head. Her eyes motioned to their young audience. The children that had been braiding Lexa’s hair had stopped what they were doing and were watching intently,

“Not now. Not here. This is a peaceful place. We must respect that.”

Clarke nodded and swallowed back the argument that had been forming in the back of her throat.

“Come. Sit. You must have been walking quickly to catch us here,” Lexa motioned to the ground in front of her.

Clarke paused for only a moment, before closing the distance and taking a seat in front of Lexa. She deposited her backpack on the ground next to her and then pulled her knees in and rested her chin on them. She looked up at the children on the log.

“I didn’t realise that babysitting was one of your duties as Commander,”

“It isn’t. We do not coddle our children, Clarke. I’m simply seeking what comfort I can from being surrounded by my people. The most innocent of them.”

There it was. If Clarke hadn’t of spent so much time learning to read between the lines with Lexa she would have missed the admonishment that Lexa did not feel as calm as she appeared. But as it was, Lexa’s true feelings were as easy for Clarke to read as any book. She was hurting.

At that moment, the young girl sat to Lexa’s left leaned in close and whispered something in the Commander’s ear. Lexa gave a small smile.

“She wants to know why you look different.” Lexa stated

Clarke narrowed her eyes, “Of course, they can’t speak English?”

“No. They are too young to be chosen as seconds. They may not even become warriors and then they will never learn.”

Lexa turned to face the girl and said something in trigedasleng. Clarke could pick out her own name, ‘skaikru’, and perhaps something about her being friendly, but little else,

“What are you telling her?”

Lexa raised a brow, “I told her that you are a very brave woman who fell out of the sky,,, And that you are a good friend.”

Clarke offered a weak smile at the sentiment. ‘A good friend’ seemed like a far too simple explanation for whatever she and Lexa were at the moment. Still it seemed to please the girl who now offered Clarke a toothy grin. The child said something else to Lexa and once again Lexa replied,

“The child says that if you have been brave then you should also have your hair braided. She will do it for you if you want.”

“That’s very kind of her, tell her I’d like that,”

Lexa did so and the girl moved off of the log and stood behind Clarke. She spoke in trigedasleng again, trusting that Lexa would be happy to continue acting as translator. Clarke watched Lexa listen intently and her breath caught when Lexa grinned, really grinned, and seemed to agree vigorously with something the girl had said. It felt like Clarke had seen Lexa smile more times in this brief moment than ever before and she cursed how each one made her heart flutter despite everything.

“She says the colour of your hair is very beautiful. Like the sun,” Lexa explained,

Clarke turned her head, “Mochof!” she said simply, meaning ‘thank you’ and then she straightened herself and kept her head still so that the girl could work. The young boy, whom had remained on the log, had also resumed braiding Lexa’s hair.

“So your braids, “ Clarke started, wanting to fill the silence, “They are a sort of status symbol?”

Lexa nodded but was quickly chastised with a swat on the shoulder from the boy for doing so. Clarke found it quite endearing how these young children seemed to have no sense of exactly who was letting them braid her hair. It was like Lexa was a long suffering older relative, not their Commander. Lexa opened her mouth to speak this time, making sure to keep her head still,

“Yes. You receive your first braid when you become a second. As you prove yourself able in your role, you may style your hair more intricately. The more braids, the more adept one can assume a person is in their field. Those in charge have the most.”

“And the Commander gets the most intricate style?”

“Exactly. People are free to braid their hair however they wish. We strongly believe in individual expression. But it would be offensive to have more braids than I.”

“Really? Do you enforce it?”

“I once had to have a man lashed for coming to a festival with an overly intricate hairstyle.”

Clarke widened her eyes. She perhaps shouldn’t have felt so surprised, she knew that the trikru were a traditional people, but this seemed harsh even by their standards. But then she considered the penalty back on the arc for someone caught pretending to be a guard and it seemed less outlandish after all. “I see. What about tattoos, do they do something similar?”

“Not exactly. You can’t always see how many tattoos a person has,” Lexa looked Clarke in the eyes as she said this as if suggesting that she herself had more than the one on her arm. “But one normally gets a tat to commemorate a particular success. A warrior might get one for bravery. A farmer for a good harvest. They are more personal.”

“People from the same area seem to have similar designs. Like Lincoln and Indra, or you and Aldrin?”

“Aldrin? The scout I sent to Camp Jaha?”

“He found me this morning and brought me here. He had been following me all week since I left the camp.” Clarke explained. Lexa seemed pleased,

“I’m glad that my judgement of his character proved correct.” Lexa said, and then to answer Clarke’s question; “Yes, Aldrin comes from the same village as I. That was perceptive, Clarke.”

Now they did fall into a natural silence. Clarke watched as Lexa closed her eyes and began to doze in the fading sunlight. She looked beautiful, there was no denying it. For perhaps the first time, the Commander really looked like the young woman she was, only a few years older than Clarke. Lexa’s age was one of the few personal details Clarke had been made privy to. She’d probably be turning twenty-one soon, not that Lexa had understood the significance of Clarke asking. Grounders didn’t celebrate birthdays. ‘I have lived for twenty passes of the seasons’ is how Lexa had described it. Clarke wondered what things they did celebrate.

Clarke averted her eyes and focused instead on the tumbling of the stream over rocks and twigs. The other children had already returned home, leaving the two hair-braiding experts alone with Clarke and Lexa. They were too absorbed in their task to think about rejoining their peers. In the silence, Clarke began another internal discussion. Being in Lexa’s presence whilst the Commander was so intent on relaxing was infuriating. Worse, Clarke had even fell for it and found herself feeling more content than she had in a long time. Was Lexa stalling deliberately? Could Clarke blame her if she was? They both knew perfectly well that Clarke would need to have her say eventually, that the time for it was drawing ever closer. This was yet another calm moment before a storm. Clarke still wasn’t sure if it’s fury was going to be directed at Lexa because she’d hurt Clarke, or because she was the only person who would understand Clarke’s anguish.

Clarke’s thoughts were interrupted by the girl. She broke the silence by announcing something in trigedasleng that Clarke assumed was the equivalent of saying ‘Tadaa!’. This also shook Lexa awake and the Commander refocused her eyes first on the girl and then on Clarke. When they got to Clarke, Lexa’s eyes widened and Clarke could see the muscles in her neck shift as she gulped.

“What?” Clarke demanded.

Lexa’s eyes roamed over her a while longer before finally she met Clarke’s own eyes; “Nothing. She’s done a good job. That’s all.”

Clarke had to smirk. “Really?” She did not sound convinced at all.

Lexa’s eyes bore into her own in the way they had so many times before. Clarke would never get used to being looked at like that, “Fine. You look beautiful.”

If Clarke had been looking to make Lexa blush, she had failed and instead felt her own cheeks colour. This was made worse by the girl, who perhaps hadn’t understood the words Lexa had used but had picked up on the tone, as she giggled at the pair.

Clarke fought back a smile, “Shof op, Lexa.” she said and this earned her a full, musical laugh from the girl.

The lighthearted moment was fleeting however and soon a nagging sense of anger and hurt settled back over Clarke’s heart. Her sudden change in mood must have showed on her face because Lexa’s face also dropped, her eyes showing concern. The Commander turned her attention to the girl and she spoke in trigedasleng. The girl whined but obeyed whatever Lexa had said and she and the boy left the clearing, leaving Clarke and Lexa alone.

“You are angry,” Lexa said. Clarke couldn’t tell if she meant it as a question or a statement.

“Yes…” she replied, and then, “No?” a moment later. Lexa gave a nod like she understood Clarke’s predicament,

“Come, we should not disturb this peaceful place, Clarke. Will you talk with me in my tent?” Lexa spoke quietly and evenly, as if afraid that Clarke would think she was trying to be forward,

“Alright.”

The pair picked themselves up of the ground, each pausing to pick up the belongings they’d discarded on the ground. Clarke swung her pack back over her shoulder, but Lexa gathered her shoulder guard in her arms rather than put it back on. They began walking, Lexa slightly ahead so that she could guide Clarke to her tent. They made their way back through the treeline to where the camp started. It was close to sunset now and fires were already roaring in the spaces between tents making the surrounding air pleasantly warm. Lexa lead Clarke to the centre of the camp, where her own tent had been constructed. Lexa said something to the guard standing outside the entrance and the guard moved away to fulfill whatever task she had been given. Lexa took the red cloth adorning the entrance of the tent and lifted it, motioning for Clarke to enter. Clarke stepped through. The tent looked identical to how it had at the previous army camp and candles had already been lit, illuminating the space with a flickering orange glow.

Clarke moved towards the war table, which was now empty where before it had been covered in maps and a model of Mt. Weather. She deposited her pack on it’s surface and then leaned back on the wood and gazed over at Lexa. The Commander had hung her shoulder guard on a wooden stand and she stood stiffly, although her expression remained blank.

Clarke opened her mouth to start saying something but was interrupted when the guard Lexa had spoken to also entered the tent,

“Heda?” she said and then, in English as a courtesy to Clarke no doubt, “I have your water jug.”

“Place it on the table and go. Nobody is to disturb us.”

“Yes, Commander.” The guard carried the water jug over to the table, placed it in the centre and left the tent again. There was a brief silence.

“Tell me what you are thinking, Clarke,” Lexa spoke, “You are conflicted.”

Clark almost sniggered. That was a mild way of putting it. “I- I guess I’m frustrated,”

“Why?”

“With you. With myself because I can’t find it in myself to be angry with you.”

“You have every right to be angry with me, if that is what you wish, Clarke. I left you and your people knowing it was likely you’d be killed.”

“But I wasn’t. I got my people back. And I understand your choice. Had I been in your position, I’d have done the same.”

Lexa looked down at the floor; “It means… much to hear you say that,”

“I know it hurt you to leave me, but I also know that you couldn’t choose me over your entire people. It would be unreasonable for me to expect more,”

“If you understand then why are you still conflicted?” Lexa put a hand up before Clarke could answer, “I don’t mean to goad you. I just want you to tell me exactly how you feel.”

“I’m, I feel,” All at once she began to relive what had happened at the mountain. Seeing those lifeless bodies, expressions frozen in pain and terror. The children slumped on the floor, in their parents arms. Jasper cradling Maya. The look of absolute disappointment, even hostility on Octavia’s face. Clarke began to cry before she even registered what was happening, “Broken. Like a monster. I killed over three hundred people. Some had helped us. There were children. I irradiated level five and watched them all die agonising deaths for forty-four people.”

“Forty-four people who were relying on you, Clarke. As their leader-”

“No! I didn’t ask to be their leader. My body wasn’t chosen as a vessel for a leader’s spirit, I wasn’t elected-”

“Regardless of what you believe Clarke, you were born to lead. That is why the responsibility has fallen to you. Because you alone can make the sacrifices needed to ensure your people’s survival.” Lexa looked like she wanted to move forward but she stumbled, her hands clasped at her sides like she was afraid to offer comfort but also desperate to give it.

The tears were coming fast now. Clarke shook her head vigorously, “No, look at me. I can’t do this like you can. I want to be able to hate you, to blame you for putting me in a shitty situation because then I don’t have to keep beating myself up. And that’s all I’ve been doing this past week. I left my people because I couldn’t bare to look at them. So I left. That’s hardly good leadership.”

Lexa had found the courage to move closer during Clarke’s wrenching speech, she was now less than a foot away from where Clarke leaned against the table. Her face was serious,

“Isn’t it?” Lexa said. Clarke looked up at her through tear filled eyes. “You knew that your ability to lead was compromised. You left them in more capable hands, even if it meant sacrificing being close to the people you care about.”

“You never left your people. You faced them after Costia, after the Missile.”

“They would have killed me if I had not. But I had to stop caring. It is a talent that has served me well. But don’t think that I do not envy your freedom to grieve. It is a luxury the Commander’s spirit will never have. You have seen through my mask, Clarke, you know it’s not a pleasant way to be.”

Lexa said the last sentence with such sadness that Clarke thought she could feel her heart wrench in her chest. She looked into Lexa’s eyes and realised that in that moment, they were both as raw and exposed as each other. Those big green eyes were filled with sadness, more so than ever before. And Clarke knew then that she didn’t want to inflict any more pain on either of them. Her anger subsided, replaced instead by a desire to see the reunion as something good, something like turning a corner.

“I had no idea I was heading towards Polis you know,” Clarke said,  
her voice hoarse from the tears, “I just chose a direction and stuck to it. And then Aldrin found me and told me I was walking to you. I’m not trikru, I’ve never been a big believer in fate but it seemed like one hell of a coincidence. And then it struck me that you are the only person who has any idea what I am feeling right now, what it feels like to choose who gets to live and who dies in their place. What it feels like to put the people who rely on you first, even at the cost of your own humanity. So maybe something bigger than me was pulling me here.”

“Maybe,” Lexa whispered. She was looking at the ground again. Clarke straightened up so that she was no longer leaning against the table, closing the distance between them to mere inches. Her eyes roamed over Lexa. The Commander looked small somehow. Like she had shrunk when she let her walls down. Clarke doubted Lexa had allowed herself to look so vulnerable in years. She wanted to cherish the sentiments behind that fact and do anything she could to ease the pain they both caried.

“Lexa. Look at me.” Clarke waited for Lexa to oblige her before continuing. “Do you still believe that after everything we’ve done we still deserve to do more than just survive?” She was referring to their exchange before their first and only kiss. She watched Lexa consider her answer,

“Yes.” Lexa breathed the word out,

“Kiss me.”

Lexa looked uncertain and she did not move,

“I want you to make me forget everything bad that’s happened since I fell to Earth. I want to feel something that isn’t pain or anger. And I want you to let yourself feel something with me.”

Now Lexa moved with all of the passion and intensity she had been holding back. She closed the gap between them completely, her hands cupping Clarke’s face as she leant down for for a desperate, bruising kiss. Clarke felt her legs buckle and this time it was her back that thudded against the edge of the war table. She buried her hands in Lexa’s hair, allowing the press of Lexa’s body against her own to keep her upright. Lexa kissed her and kissed her and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's POV.  
> Edit: I have changed Lexa's age to 20 to match what Jason Rothenberg recently said about her being 'probably a few years older than Clarke'. By my timeline, this means she has been Commander for six years and she lost Costia when she was 18.  
> Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome. This is the first long fic I've written in a good while, so I hope you enjoy it.  
> Find me as pirateboots on Tumblr if you have a burning desire to swap and discuss headcanons, my ask box is always open :)


	4. Setting Pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa discuss strategies to secure the Commander's leadership and ensure the continued safety of the Sky People and the alliance of the clans. They journey to Polis together and watch as the survivors are reunited with their loved ones.

Chapter Four: Setting Pace

The morning was a bright one and the sunlight shone through the thin material of the Commander's tent, waking Clarke up. It took her a second to place her surroundings but as soon as she realised where she was she smiled widely and shifted onto her side. Lying on her stomach beside her was Lexa, still asleep.

Her braided hair was splayed over the pillow behind her, leaving her face exposed. Lexa looked completely at peace, her breathing deep and even, a small smile tugged at her lips even as she slept. The fur cover rested at the curve of her bottom, leaving her back completely exposed. Clarke took the opportunity to admire such a wonderful view. Lexa’s back was almost entirely covered in a large tattoo; its swirling design matched the one on her upper arm. The ink patterns swirled over toned back muscles that shifted as Lexa breathed. On the skin between the swirls were Lexa’s brands, one for every kill she had made in battle. She had a lot, starting at her right shoulder and moving along with the pattern of the tattoo diagonally. The brands reached down almost the whole length of Lexa’s back. The tattoo itself sprawled even further. Tendrils of ink snaked around to Lexa’s left breast and around her right hip to her navel. Once it met the small of her back, it continued to weave down her left thigh to the knee. As well as the brands, there were several scars of varying sizes and intensity. Where the burns had been carefully made upon Lexa’s skin, these marks of battle had not and they interrupted the design of the tattoo, creating texture and ripples in the ink. Clarke looked at Lexa with her artistic eye like she was looking at a prized masterpiece.

Clarke propped herself up and with her free hand, she reached out and began to trace the tattoo. She wanted to memorise every detail. She reached the middle of Lexa’s back when the other woman woke up and their eyes met, Lexa’s still looked sleepy,

“Morning,” Clarke said, her roaming fingers coming to a halt,

“Don’t stop.”

Clarke smiled and continued her task of mapping Lexa’s tattoo, reaching the small of her back before journeying back up, tracing a new path of swirls.

“The time?” Lexa asked,

“Early. The sunrise woke me up.”

“Good, then we have some time before we leave. The army completes it’s march to Polis today.”

Clarke stopped tracing again and lay her hand flat against Lexa’s skin, “Lexa I want to come with you to Polis.”

Lexa gave her a smile, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Clarke shuffled closer now and brought up her hand to cup Lexa’s cheek, “And I want you to know that I forgive you.”

This time Lexa responded by leaning forward and kissing Clarke. It was a slow and gentle kiss more like their first than the passionate ones they’d shared last night. They parted, but rested their foreheads together a while before Lexa sighed and rolled away onto her back,

“What is it?” Clarke asked,

“I want to savour this moment but I can’t. If you are coming to Polis with me, there are things that we must discuss.”

“No rest for the wicked, right?” Clarke tried to make light of the situation.

Lexa didn’t reply. instead she climbed out of the bed and began to dress. Clarke took the opportunity to appreciate Lexa’s naked, toned body in the seconds before it was hidden by clothing.

“There are tensions growing within the army,” Lexa started as she put on her coat, straight to business,

“I know. When I arrived yesterday, I was stopped by a warrior who expressed disdain at your decision to retreat.”

“My warriors wanted blood. I robbed them of their chance for vengeance,”

“Yeah. And you also prevented any more of them from getting killed in a battle that had become avoidable-”

Lexa put up a hand and Clarke stopped, “That isn’t good enough for many. I know I made the right decision. And I can’t express how much it means to know that you know that. But my warriors are proud and traditional. They live to fight. To see that all wrongs made against our people are met justly and ruthlessly. They see weakness where we see a chance to make peace,”

“But isn't that the ultimate goal of war? To keep people who don’t fight, who can’t, safe? Isn’t there a way that we can convince them that what you did wasn’t weakness?”

“Maybe. I think so, but it’ll need to be a convincing argument. Otherwise-”

“Otherwise the doubt will spread and your life will be in danger,”

Lexa nodded grimly, “That’s why I need your help Clarke, it is good for me that you came here. But I don’t want to cause you more hurt. I’m worried that what I have in mind will do that,”

Clarke was moved by the obvious concern Lexa was showing for her. The Commander had never been so open and finally her words matched her expressions, the mask gone. “What do you need from me?”

“I need you to agree to-” Lexa paused and seemed to be searching for the right words, “To turn what you did to the Mountain to our advantage.”

“You mean lie?”

“No. Merely work with me to think of a way to tell the tale that benefits us most.”

“You have an idea of how to do that?”

“Yes. We have to make out that the alliance between my people and your own still stands.”

Clarke considered this. “Do you want to tell everyone that we foresaw the possibility that the mountain men would offer a deal? And we already knew what we would do in that situation?”

“No. That would be a lie.” Lexa paused and poured herself a drink of water from the jug that the guard had left on the table last night. She nursed the metal cup with her hands, “We just need to make them think that our alliance didn’t end when I ordered the retreat. Because I trusted you would finish what we had started if you kept yourself alive. If the alliance stands then who killed the mountain men should not matter. We stood as one and thanks to you, blood answered blood,”

“So it was like a test to see if the Sky people were worthy allies?”

“People may choose to see it that way. But what is important is that they think that I always had faith in your ability. To exact justice on the mountain men and to rescue those left inside. And that as the Commander I say that it was adequate that it was you that killed the mountain men.”

“The warrior who spoke against you was… he showed respect to me,”

Lexa nodded, “They will. You showed true strength that night. My plan is also aimed at ensuring the continued safety of the sky people.”

“By keeping you alive. Yeah, I told you I need your spirit to stay where it is,”

“No, the sky people aren’t going to be protected by me. They’ll be protected by the respect the warriors have for you. By the fact that the skaikru have proven themselves to be worthy and powerful allies to all who live on the ground. I will admit to you now that I thought the most likely outcome of my leaving would be your death. But I also know your strength, Clarke. I knew that if you found a way to stay alive you would be victorious.” Lexa allowed herself a fleeting smile, "Still, perhaps I underestimated you again. For the last time."

Clarke nodded in understanding, “You see a future where there are thirteen grounder clans?”

“You are on the ground to stay aren’t you?” It was a rhetorical question,

“What about the alliance between the twelve? Do you intend to try and keep it now that you don’t have a common enemy?”

“I do. I want lasting peace, Clarke. I want an end to the suffering of innocent people. I want everyone to be deserving of happiness. And I have to believe that if even I can find some with you, like I did last night, then I can find it for everyone.”

Clarke smiled from where she still sat in the bed, “Last night made me feel happy too.” She paused, “Alright, I’ll go along with this plan of yours. But I can’t guarantee that everyone else back at Camp Jaha will be happy to go along with this,”

“I understand and I do hope to make amends somehow. But for now what is important is that you and I arrive at Polis as a united front. My warriors know you as the leader of the skaikru and that will be good enough. We need to concentrate on silencing the dissenters first. Then we can think about ways of encouraging continued peace and cooperation between all the clans. Skaikru included.”

“No small task.”

“This won’t be easy, Clarke,” Lexa said seriously, but then her expression cracked and she smirked. “So you’d better get out of bed and think about getting dressed.”

“Yes Commander,” Clarke replied with her own smirk and she tossed the furs back and got up, standing naked before Lexa. Clarke was extremely satisfied when Lexa’s eyes immediately started to roam over her body, but the Commander forced herself to stop and looked serious again.

“I’m going to get breakfast. Join me when you’re dressed. We march soon.”

Clarke watched as Lexa exited the tent somewhat hurriedly. It was probably for the best. Clarke didn’t want to be responsible for delaying an entire army from going home by waylaying the Commander. She dressed and left the tent too to join Lexa for breakfast.

-

The army got into formation for it’s march to Polis the moment that everyone had been fed and the camp packed away. Clarke had watched in awe as the eight hundred grounders Lexa had saved from the mountain came pouring out of the village gate’s. They took their place in the centre of the marching group with soldiers on every side to protect them.

“How many are there?”

“Eight- no seven hundred and ninety nine. One of the men was from this village. He’s with his husband now. Hopefully rediscovering what it is to be around someone you love.” Lexa replied and she gave Clarke a meaningful look that suggested she wasn’t just talking about the survivor.

It wasn’t just survivors emerging from Gowma, many residents of the village had also come to see the army off. Clarke watched as Lexa turned to face these people and she spoke to them in trigedasleng. Clarke couldn’t understand what Lexa was saying, but the pride and love for her people was evident in Lexa’s voice. It was different to how she spoke to her warriors, not at all threatening, merely strong and reassuring. The voice of a true leader. The crowd were enraptured by her. ‘Same as me’ Clarke thought.

When Lexa had finished she turned to Clarke and smiled; “Come. There’s someone I would like to introduce you to before we go,”

Clarke and Lexa walked towards the crowd and a woman, who looked to be around her mid thirties, stepped forward.

“Clarke,” Lexa said as they reached the woman, “This is Pola, Costia’s sister.”

Clarke offered Lexa a supportive smile at this revelation and then she turned and offered her hand to Pola. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pola,” she said, even though she knew Pola would not speak English.

Pola smiled and rather than shake Clarke’s hand, she clasped Clarke’s forearm and brought her in close for a hug, as was grounder tradition. Clarke followed the movement as best she could and she thought back to when she and Anya had clasped arms. There'd been no hug that time though.

“Clarke.” Pola said simply in greeting and then she turned to Lexa and spoke in her own language. Clarke watched as Lexa’s cheeks coloured and she could guess that they had previously spoken about her.

Clarke stood quietly whilst Pola and Lexa exchanged a long goodbye hug. Her ears caught mention of the word ‘skaikru’ and she concentrated harder on what Lexa was saying, trying to understand.

“Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim.” Lexa said to Pola. It didn’t take a huge leap to work out that that was ‘may we meet again’ in trigedasleng. Pola seemed pleased with this newly introduced sentiment and she hugged Lexa one more time.

“Are you ready to go to Polis, Clarke?” Lexa said, turning her attention back to her,

“I can’t wait,” Clarke replied, and she meant it.

They turned their back on Gowma and headed to the front of the army.

“Gonakru!” Lexa shouted in the commanding tone that Clarke was most familiar with, “Ai kru! Oso kamp raun Polis!” Warriors. My people. We go to Polis.

-

It took them until mid-afternoon to reach the first gates that guarded the outskirts of the city. Progress was slow so that the survivors did not need to struggle. The army had been following the same ruin of an old road the whole way. The closer they got to Polis, the sparser the woods got and the more cracked concrete you could make out underneath the foliage. Whereas there were cars buried under roots and leaves around TonDC, here they had all been cleared away. Clarke assumed the metal had been used for construction. The metal walls that expanded out on either side of the gates were a mish mash of colours. Automobile bonnets and other scrap metal joined together into an impressive structure. The group turned off the road, which seemed to run parallel with the wall for many more miles, onto a smaller pathway. The group came to a halt at the foot of the gates.

On the other side were two tall sentry towers, also constructed out of scrap metal and a guard stood alert atop either one. They both looked down over the gates to the army below. One of Lexa’s attendants went forward and shouted up at them, the sentries in turn called an order to the ground on their side. Within a second there was a loud groan of metal moving against metal and the gates began to move, opening outwards. The attendant moved back into formation and the army began to march again. The gates closed the moment they were all through.

Clarke surveyed the land before her and turned to Lexa with a furrowed brow. It didn't seem much different from the scenery on the other side of the wall. There were scattered trees and tufts of grass growing over the remains of old roads. Hardly the hustle and bustle Clarke was expecting to find,

“Those are the outer gates. We have just passed into the outskirts of the city. The centre is further in.” Lexa explained, recognising Clarke’s confusion.

As they kept marching however, signs of life became more and more apparent. To Clarke’s right, the trees grew denser but she could just about make out the shapes of metal buildings built between them. Then she looked up and was stunned to see tree houses too. To her left, the signs of an old city started to emerge. Foliage grew freely over concrete structures that had been skillfully repaired into livable buildings. Sounds of day to day life began to carry from the houses on the wind; shouting, the sounds of children playing, the clanging of cooking pots.

The company kept to the central trail as it began to curve towards the north, circumnavigating the large cluster of homes on the left. Soon they were joined on the path by other people also heading into the centre of Polis. Horse and carts that were carrying crops and meat and milk were brought to a stop at the side of the road, allowing them to pass. They were all coming from a vast flat area to the East,

“Our farms,” said Lexa, following the direction of Clarke’s gaze. Clarke could see fields of livestock in the far distance, and in front of them fields of crops. Every now and again there was a metal structure, farmhouses no doubt.

Eventually they reached the next set of gates and Clarke deduced that they were finally about to enter the centre of the capitol. Behind the high city walls were two massive structures, the most intact structures from the old world Clarke had seen save for the statue near TonDC. The one on the left had once been whitewashed, but now it was faded to grey. The building on the right was brown. Sentries stood all along the length of the buildings, they were perfect lookout points.

At the command of the attendant these second gates opened to them and in they went. Clarke was momentarily stunned when she was greeted with more woodland growing behind the two lookout buildings. She had been expecting many more ruined buildings but now it felt like she’d gone back to the forest. Clarke continued to watch in amazement as Lexa turned around to face the army and issued a command. Whatever she said was met with cheers and the strict formation broke as the majority of warriors began to disperse into the trees. Clarke watched as the ones still in view began to build their tents.

“So any visitors to Polis have to make their way through the army camp, which is in a mini forest because that’s where your people are at their strongest?” Clarke guessed,

“Exactly.”

The group did not linger and they continued forward on the path until trees once again gave way to metal buildings and city ruins. And people. All at once there were crowds and crowds of grounders bustling around markets and metal huts that Clarke assumed were also places of trade. She watched the furious trading of goods around her; a plucked chicken exchanged for bread and milk, a spare blanket became currency for a new shirt. The cacophony of voices gradually died down however as more and more people noticed the arrival of their Commander. Suddenly it felt like all eyes were on Lexa and Clarke and then one person started to chant ‘Heda Heda Heda!’ and it was soon picked up by others. Lexa continued to walk, bowing her head to people in acknowledgment as she went. Clarke followed along with the eight hundred survivors and the warriors that had remained to see them safely into the centre of Polis.

Clarke realised that they were heading past the markets for a large clearing that she took to be the meeting point in the city. It was filled with people. As they got nearer, several children came running up to Lexa, repeating her title over and over. One presented Lexa with four small white flowers, tulips Clarke remembered from a picture book she’d read on the arc. The Commander gratefully accepted them, her free hand squeezing the child’s shoulder. Lexa separated two of the flowers and held them out to Clarke with a smile and Clarke could feel her cheeks grow red as she reached out and took them. Some of the children gave an ‘ahhh’ at the gesture.

Lexa brought everyone to a stop by raising a hand. A man came forward from the large group of people and he bowed his head to the Commander and then began to speak. Lexa listened and then she turned to Clarke,

“Before you are people who are hoping to be reunited with a loved one today. I am glad that you are here to see this Clarke. It would not have been possible without you.”

At this, Clarke realised that the crowd before them all shared an expression of hope and excitement, “Well, don’t keep them waiting any longer.”

Lexa smiled and she turned towards the crowd and spoke. The effect was instant and all at once, that crowd began to rush forwards as people clamoured to identify their family and friends. Clarke and Lexa moved clear of the rush and watched as scene after scene of happy reunion unrolled before them. Clarke cried openly at the joyfulness of it all, she was almost overwhelmed. When she turned to look at Lexa she saw that the Commander was clutching so tightly to the stems of her tulips, her fist had turned white. Lexa was holding back her own tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's POV.  
> If anyone wants to draw Lexa's tattoo based on my description, I would love you forever. I cannot art.  
> Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome. This is the first long fic I've written in a good while, so I hope you enjoy it.  
> Find me as pirateboots on Tumblr if you have a burning desire to swap and discuss headcanons, my ask box is always open :)


	5. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke retire to the Commander's village and Lexa opens up about her past. They discuss what Clarke is looking for and Lexa offers guidance on how Clarke can learn to live with herself.

Chapter Five: Arrival

They had stayed at the meeting place for most of the day, watching loved ones reunite. Of course, not every survivor had someone waiting for them. Lexa was surprised by how many people had managed to make it to Polis before they had and made a note to reward the riders she had sent across the Trigeda before leaving for the Capital. Those who were left had been found shelter, either with someone willing to allow them into their home, or in one of the communal houses back in the city outskirts. They were normally used as free accommodation for visitors to the city. They also provided shelter to those who could not find shelter elsewhere. Nobody in Polis went to bed without a roof over their head. Clarke had liked finding that out about the trikru and had asked many questions about the way that necessities were shared among the people. Lexa had answered as best she could and promised that she would go into more detail when they had the chance. Besides, Clarke was going to need a crash course in the everyday trikru lifestyle if she truly did plan on staying in Polis.

It was night time by the time Lexa and Clarke retired to the Commander’s village. Built on the ruins of an old naval academy, the village was home to the highest ranking members of the army and large clear areas used for intense training. There was also a weapon smithy on site and a large armoury. Some other ruined buildings had been patched up and served as emergency stores for food and other supplies. They were there ready for the Commander to distribute in times of crisis. The Commander’s tent would be replaced by a large metal structure to house the war room. The building also had several smaller rooms meant for the most private discussions among the Commander and her generals and allies.

The Commander herself resided in the remains of a building in the far right corner of the base, right on the coast. The building still had a sign outside it that read ‘Barra’, the rest of the letters had long since faded. The ruin was only one level, although it looked like it had once been higher. The majority of the ruin had been covered in a low slanting metal roof, but the right side had been built up another floor to house Lexa’s sleeping quarters. It was certainly a bit larger than most other buildings in Polis but there was no grandeur about it particularly. The only thing that set it apart were the flags atop the roof and the artwork that adorned the outer walls. They were covered in paintings of symbols that represented every Commander that had lead the Trikru. Many buildings in Polis sported artwork but the effort that had gone into decorating the Commander’s home was meticulous. Lexa had enjoyed watching Clarke appreciate the art and looked forward to the light of morning when Clarke would really be able to appreciate the colours.

Upon arriving at Lexa’s quarters, Clarke had unquestioningly followed Lexa into the building. They found themselves entering Lexa’s bedroom together as if it was something they had done a thousand nights before. It wasn’t though and, when they realised this, the pair turned to one another with sheepish smiles. Lexa actually felt her palms start to sweat when she realised that nobody but herself and occasionally Anya had set foot in this room for two years. She didn’t even allow her attendants or bodyguard, when she had one, through the door. This room alone in the whole of the Trigeda was her very own. A place she could find some refuge, if only for the few hours that she retired here at nights. She bowed her head and looked up at Clarke through her eyelashes,

“Are you- do you want to stay here tonight?” she managed and she hated the slight tremor in her voice,

“Please,” Clarke replied simply. She must have noticed Lexa’s nervousness because she furrowed her brow, “Unless you’d rather be alone? This,” she gestured around the room, “This looks like quite a private place.”

Lexa nodded a confirmation and clasped her hands in front of her, “I’d like it if you stayed, Clarke.”

That earned her a wonderful smile. Then her eyes glanced about her chambers. It was quite cluttered, perhaps surprisingly so. The walls were adorned with the furs of Lexa’s best hunting successes and yet more art. Not the art of the old world, but paintings and sculptures made by her people. Lexa had little time to pursue artistry past creating maps and models for battles. But she was very proud of the things her people had created, their culture. Yet out of all her possessions, she zoned in on the empty water jug standing on a small table by a single armchair. The chair was a battered relic from the old world but still deceptively comfortable. “I have to fetch some water for the night.” she said, looking back to Clarke, “Make yourself comfortable. There’s the bed if you need to sleep.” she pointed, “Or the chair.”

“What about the fur rug, or is that off limits?” Clarke asked,

“No. You can-” Lexa stopped and sighed when she realised she was being mocked. She couldn’t really blame Clarke this time, she knew she was acting an utter fool. “I’ll be back shortly.” she said, and she retrieved the jug and left Clarke alone in her room.

It didn’t take her long to fetch water, there were several barrels kept in the larder next to the dining area one level down. She filled the jug to the brim, retrieved an extra cup since she only had one already in her room and went back upstairs to her chambers.

She found Clarke sitting in the armchair. She had taken her battered leather coat and boots off, leaving her wearing her pants and threadbear grey shirt. Lexa made a note to get better clothes for Clarke for tomorrow. There was going to be a day of celebration for the victory against the mountain men. The streets would be filled with people feasting and dancing and otherwise making merriment. Lexa would return to the meeting place to address all of her people with a speech. She wanted Clarke to be by her side for it in an important display of unity.

Lexa moved and placed the jug back on the table, along with the extra cup. She could feel Clarke’s eyes following her movements carefully. Before she could think to say anything, Clarke spoke,

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Lexa asked. Her jaw tensed because she thought she knew where Clarke was going,

“You always make sure that you have a full jug of water with you before you go to bed. You did it last night as well, and I’ve noticed it before when I’ve been late leaving your tent.”

Lexa sucked in a breath and held it. She considered shutting the conversation down but then thought better of it. She moved over to the fire place and knelt down to start a fire. Mostly she needed something to concentrate on so that what she was about to tell Clarke would hurt less. “The night that Costia was taken,” she began, her eyes fixed firmly on the kindling in the fireplace, “she had gotten up in the middle of the night with a thirst.”

Lexa struck the flint and the kindling caught fire, illuminating her face. The reflection of the flames danced in her eyes, “But the jug was empty and she left the tent to fetch more water. We were already at war with the ice nation. Our camp wasn’t far from their border. Ice nation scouts that had been spying on the camp saw her leave my tent alone and they took her.”

Lexa stood up straight and turned to Clarke, “It was hours before I woke up. I half remembered Costia getting out of bed, but must have fallen back asleep before she left the tent. I woke to find the place beside me cold. At first I assumed she had already gotten up. Then I noticed the water jug was missing. When I went to the water barrels I found the jug. Still empty save for two things.” Lexa paused and swallowed, “A piece of Costia’s nightdress and a wolf tooth. So I knew exactly who had taken her from me.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Lexa. I shouldn’t have pried,” Clarke whispered. Lexa could see her own pain reflected back in Clarke’s face and she knew that Clarke appreciated her decision to be honest.

“No. It is good that you asked.” Lexa said flatly and she swallowed back the pain like she had so many times before. “If the jug had of been full that night… We all find ways to cope with the things that happen to us. This is one of mine. You must find your own, Clarke.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Lexa knew she was lecturing again, but it was something she’d been meaning to bring up. Besides it felt good to shift the focus back onto Clarke. “Last night was a wonderful experience for both of us. But I cannot be a distraction forever. I will not fix you, Clarke. That is something you must do for yourself.”

Clarke grimaced as if she also recognised that this was something that needed to be talked about, “I understand,”

“I am glad,”

“But I refuse to waste any more time,” Clarke said, and that steely and determined tone returned. The one that stripped Lexa’s defences away because nobody else had the nerve to speak to her that way. Lexa raised an eyebrow and waited for Clarke to continue, which she soon did, “I don’t want you to fix me and I can’t fix you. But we’d both be lying if we said that we didn’t need each other.” Now Clarke stood up from the chair, “If we ignored that we brought out the best in each other, even when we've seen the worst.”

Lexa had to smile.

“So don’t worry. I’ll figure out something to do with myself while I’m here and maybe over time I’ll be able to forgive myself for what I’ve done. Or at least learn to live with it. But I think I want to do all that with you beside me, not as a distraction or an emotional crutch. Simply as…” Clarke paused as she struggled for what to say, words that neither of them were quite ready to use echoed between them. Lexa saved her the struggle by coming forward and clasping their hands together,

“Then I will be right beside you, Clarke. For as long as I am able.”

Clarke looked up at her with watery eyes and nodded, “I know that there will be other times when you’ll have to choose your people over me. And sometimes I might have to do the same. But this world, this life… it’s brutal. I need to learn to hold on to the good things before they get away,” her hands tightened around Lexa’s as she said that.

Lexa really didn’t know what she could say in reply. Clarke was so much better at putting emotions into words of course. That was something that Lexa found near impossible even in her first language. But she wanted Clarke to know that she had been understood and that Lexa was as willing to try to cherish whatever this was growing into for as long as possible. So she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around Clarke in a tight hug, pressing her cheek against the top of Clarke’s head. Clarke immediately buried her face in the crook of Lexa’s neck and it tickled when Clarke exhaled. This simple and innocent gesture somehow seemed like the most intimate thing the pair had done. Lexa thought back to the last time she had let someone hold her like this. To completely trust someone and let them stay so very close. She thought about the burdens they both carried and wondered if they’d ever be able to heal those wounds completely, or whether they’d just have to rely on this closeness to help hold everything together. Like tying a cloth tight around a bleeding wound. They stayed there for a long while before Clarke lifted her head up to look at Lexa. She looked exhausted.

“We should go to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day,” Lexa said.

Clarke smiled when she was reminded of the festivities happening the next day. Wordlessly, they both undressed and climbed into bed. Lexa relished the feeling of fresh furs after sleeping under the same unwashed ones in her tent for so long. She got herself comfortable lying on her back and then turned her head towards Clarke. Lexa stretch out her arm and beckoned and Clarke wriggled in close and rested her head against Lexa’s shoulder. Her hand came to rest on Lexa’s stomach. They stayed like that all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's POV.  
> Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome. This is the first long fic I've written in a good while, so I hope you enjoy it.  
> Find me as pirateboots on Tumblr if you have a burning desire to swap and discuss headcanons, my ask box is always open :)


	6. New Journeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke attend the victory celebrations in Polis. Lexa addresses her people and puts her plans into motion, hoping to secure a peaceful future for the alliance of the clans, the sky people included.

Chapter Six: New Journeys

The sun had barely risen but Lexa and Clarke were already awake and dressed. Lexa had had an attendant find new clothes for Clarke so that she looked presentable. And slightly less conspicuous. They were preparing to head the procession that would march from the Commander’s village back to the city meeting place. The moment they stepped outside, they could hear the sounds of an entire city preparing to celebrate carrying on the wind from the centre of Polis. The generals were already waiting in formation, their armour clean and their warpaint freshly applied. The only thing that didn’t look touched was their hair. Braids were still coming loose, Lexa’s in particular looked like it needed tending to.

“So you’ve all got fresh clothes but nobody has a brush?” Clarke asked Lexa as they surveyed the generals standing in formation. Her tone was joking,

“It’s traditional for warriors to get their hair washed and re-braided as part of the celebrations. We will go to the bath house first when we reach the city centre. It symbolises cleansing the pain of war. Those who have earned it will also have new braids.”

Clarke nodded in understanding. “Bath houses?” she piped up as they reached the front of the procession. Two horses were being held for them by a stable master, one white and one chestnut.

“Personal hygiene is important.” Lexa said flatly as she took the white horse’s reins into her hand and patted the horse on it’s long snout. It leaned into the touch and remained completely calm. She mounted the horse and waited for Clarke to do the same.

“That’s not why I’m asking!” Clarke said hurriedly as she also mounted up, “It’s just I’ve never actually had a proper bath before. You were lucky to have enough water to sponge yourself down on the arc. And skinny dipping in a freezing river doesn't count.”

Lexa looked towards Clarke with a smile, “Then you are welcome to use my personal bathing chamber whenever you wish.” she said in a low voice so that nobody else would hear.

Clarke wiggled her eyebrows in response, causing Lexa to shake her head. The stable master, who had been giving the horses one last check over motioned that the beasts were ready and Lexa nodded a thanks. She looked to Clarke again,

“Keep to my left as we proceed. That is the place for my guests.”

“What about your right?”

“A place for my bodyguard.” Lexa felt herself tense as she thought about Gustus, “I will choose a new one today.” With that she dug her heels in and spurred the horse into a trot. Clarke followed suit, making sure to stay left and never overtake the Commander. The generals fell into step behind them.

“You should choose Aldrin.” Clarke spoke as they made their way to the gates that separated the Commander’s village from the rest of Polis. Lexa turned to her with a raised eyebrow, she had not expected to receive counsel from Clarke but she would certainly listen. “Sorry if I’m speaking out of turn but he showed true loyalty to you. And you know you can trust him around me.”

“Well argued, Clarke. I will consider this.” she said. They’d reached the gate and it was time for the mask to go back on for a while. Everyone looked straight forward as the gates opened, but Lexa kept her gaze turned towards Clarke. Just as she expected, Clarke’s eyes lit up at the sight before her. Overnight, the city had been transformed. Flags and cloth streamers of all different colours now hung from buildings. Walls had been splashed with paint. There were fire barrels at regular intervals down the road, many with meat kebabs already sizzling on top of them. And there were people everywhere you looked. The whole city had come out to celebrate the victory against the Mountain. They clamoured together and chattered noisily and ate the food they had cooked on the barrels. There were groups of people playing the drums and other metal and wooden instruments, filling the air with a deep rhythmic music. When the gates opened fully to reveal the procession, a huge cheer went up and a chant of ‘Heda, Heda, Heda’ spread like wildfire.

Lexa spurred her horse out into the city, the procession following along the main road to the centre. She regarded her people, trying to keep her face neutral but proud. She doubted she could hide the joy in her eyes though and as she picked out particular faces in the crowd, each one smiled widely back at her and bowed their head. Some people began to toss flowers into the road before the procession. Some came closer to offer garlands and bouquets to a particular general, no doubt a family member or a friend. There was a palpable sense of happiness and relief for those that had returned safely and that peace had come around again at last. And it wasn’t just any peace. It was the marking of the end of a threat that had plagued the Trigeda for almost a century. And, Lexa thought, it was all thanks to the woman riding beside her.

Now Lexa concentrated on the way that the people looked at Clarke. Even with her new braids, Clarke did not yet look like one of them. Nobody save the army that had returned last night knew that this was the woman who had fallen out of the sky and killed the mountain men. Lexa was banking on this revelation when she made her speech later in the day to sway people into accepting the skaikru as permanent allies. She needed that instantaneous rush of gratitude to wash away the doubts of her warriors and to quell any dissent.

She could see curiosity in the eyes of her people as they rode past, but also respect. Only those closest to the Commander got to ride on a horse by her side and for now, that was enough for them to cheer for Clarke as well as their leader. In fact a boy of about ten came forward and offered his small bouquet of flowers to Clarke. Lexa watched as Clarke’s eyes lit up as she leaned over to the side of her horse to accept them. She lifted the petals to her nose and inhaling their scent. Then, mirroring what Lexa had done the day before, she halved the bouquet and offered one half over to Lexa. Lexa hadn’t expected Clarke to do something so openly affectionate and she struggled to keep a blush from rising in her cheeks as she reached out and took the offered gift. She did however let her hand linger over Clarke’s for just a moment more than necessary. She could hear gasps and whispers emanating from the crowd.

After a time, the procession, which had grown dramatically as civilians had joined in behind the generals, arrived at the meeting place. Where yesterday it had been empty save for the people waiting to claim their loved ones, today there stood in the very centre a wooden stage. Atop it, on a raised platform, was Lexa’s throne. There were two much smaller chairs below the throne, to the left and right. The left would be Clarke’s, the right chair was for whoever Lexa chose as her new bodyguard. But first they were to go to the bath house.

Lexa dismounted and motioned for Clarke to do the same. As soon as they were both dismounted, a woman appeared and lead the horses off to one of the stables in the market place. Lexa turned towards the procession, that had also come to a complete stop, and she spoke in trigedasleng,

“My Generals. Please join me in the bath house. With water we will cleanse the pain of war. And then, free of burden, we will celebrate our victory!”

A cheer went up and Lexa began to lead the highest ranking warriors towards the bath house. It was a short walk to the south-east, by the coast. The air was hot around the building, from where large fires were kept burning to distill the water collected from the river.

There was a flurry of activity around the bath house as other warriors who were not part of the procession came in and out. Most got up before sunrise to get their own hair tended to so that they could get to the meeting point before the Commander and their generals returned. A soon as Lexa and the procession arrived however, they were immediately ushered past the queue of people and welcomed into the large bath house.

An attendant lead them all into the large central room that housed the communal pool. Around it’s edge, chairs had been placed and behind them basins and a small table. Lexa watched the people already sat on the chairs as the people who worked in the bath houses methodologically undid their hair. They took great care to place each bead and tie onto the table before washing and restyling. Lexa smiled at the younger people, those of about sixteen. You could see the pride in their faces as they exited the bath house with more braids than they’d entered with. It was a sign that their days as a second were over. They were now fully fledged warriors themselves, having been deemed ready by their mentors.

Once all of the chairs were empty, the attendant saw the procession to their seats. All were seated save for the Commander and Clarke. Lexa spoke to the attendant,

“This is Clarke of the Sky people. She is here as my guest, though she is not trikru. You will treat her with the same respect you would afford any one else in this room.”

The attendant bowed his head, “Yes Commander.”

Lexa looked towards Clarke, who could only stand and watch this conversation unfold, with a reassuring smile. She spoke in English to Clarke, “Do you want to keep your braids, Clarke?”

“Yes, I’d like to,”

Lexa nodded and motioned that Clarke should take her seat. She waited until Clarke had and was looking away. Then Lexa turned back to the attendant and again spoke in her own language, “Clarke has shown true bravery in the war. My people should see that.” She paused and considered her next request carefully, “She is… important to me, you understand?

The attendant looked to Clarke and then back to his commander and he grinned, “I understand Commander,”

“Here,” Lexa reached into one of the concealed pockets on her coat and brought out a long thin strip of red cloth. It was about the same length as Clarke’s hair. She offered it to the attendant, “Put it in her hair.”

“As you wish.”

-

The sun was high in the sky by the time they emerged from the bath house and returned to the meeting circle.

As they walked back, Lexa watched as Clarke grasped at the large braid on the left of her face and pulled it forward so that she could see the end of the plait.

“Lexa. Is this- is this from your cloak?” Clarke asked,

Lexa swallowed, “Yes.”

“Have you- is this you giving me your favour?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Clarke sighed. “In lots of the children’s books we had on the arc, there would be a knight- a warrior- and they would give someone they… cared about, something of theirs. A piece of cloth from their armour. And the person they gave it to would wear it so that everyone knew that they were special to one another.”

Lexa turned and faced Clarke, “Yes, it is intended to show that you are under my protection.”

“Oh-”

“Because you are special. To me.”

They arrived at the foot of the stage in the meeting place as Lexa said this so there was no more opportunity to speak about the matter. She climbed onto the stage and walked towards her throne, taking a seat. Clarke followed and sat on the lower chair to the left. Lexa looked down at the top of Clarke’s head and then looked out to survey the capitol. The market square was full, both warriors and civilians had gathered to hear the Commander's address. She watched people look towards Clarke and begin to whisper. Lexa concentrated on the reactions of her warriors as they noticed the ‘favour’ as Clarke had called it, plaited into Clarke’s hair. Most seemed pleased but, as she suspected, there were a few whose eyes flashed angry at the sight. Those were the warriors she needed to sway today. But first she needed to choose someone as her new bodyguard. She raised a hand and the circle fell quiet.

“You,” she said in trigedasleng, and she pointed to one of her generals in the crowd, “You will come stand by Clarke and translate the proceedings.”

The general moved out of the crowd and bowed his head, “As you wish, Heda.” He got onto the stage and stood close to Clarke’s chair, bending to whisper to Clarke why he had been put there. Clarke turned her head and nodded a thanks to Lexa, which Lexa returned.

“People of Polis.” she began in the language of her people, “My people. I am sure you are all keen to celebrate our victory. But first I wish to speak with you.” She gestured to the empty chair, “I find myself in need of a new bodyguard. The last one proved less than loyal.” The crowd began to murmur at this, surely surprised to learn that Gustus had somehow betrayed Lexa. It was no secret they had been very close friends. “When you show disloyalty to me, you show disloyalty to your whole people. Gustus paid with his life for that treachery.” Lexa kept her voice even and detached even as she felt her chest tighten, “Where is Scout Aldrin?”

There was some bustling in the crowd and the scout that had brought Clarke to her emerged from where he had been watching and listening.

“Aldrin, I have it on good council that you have proven yourself loyal to my vision. You went above and beyond your duty when I sent you to Camp Jaha. You made sure that Clarke, Leader of the Sky People, made it safely to my side so that she could be here today.”

Aldrin looked towards Clarke and smiled. He had guessed that she was the one who had given Lexa ‘good council’.

“You are a skilled warrior and brave. Will you turn these skills to protecting your Commander?”

Now Aldrin looked at her and then he bowed, “It would be my honour, Heda Leksa.”

Lexa was glad he had accepted. Whilst she had been chosen, her bodyguards and attendants were all allowed to refuse. Forcing someone into a role they did not want would be as lethal as choosing someone openly opposed to the Commander as a bodyguard. “Then from this day forward you are my bodyguard. My right hand. You will serve in this role until death takes you, or I deem you no longer fit. Take your seat, Aldrin.”

She waited whilst Aldrin climbed onto the stage and took the seat to the right of the throne. There was applause and drumming from the crowd as he did so. |Lexa raised a hand to bring quiet again. She looked over her people. It was time for her speech. Whilst the victory against the mountain had united them all today, it was what she was about to say that would shape the future of the Trigedakru. She clenched her jaw, breathed deeply and began to speak,

“People of Polis. Your army returns victorious. A threat that has plagued our clan for nearly one hundred years will do so no more. The Mountain Men are dead.”

She gave her people a chance to cheer at this news before she continued, “By now you might have heard how this victory came to pass. I am sure you have questions. I intend to answer them. When I rode from Polis it was to answer a new threat, a threat that had fallen from the sky. But all was not as it seemed. Where we marched expecting to find a new enemy, instead the Trigeda found a new ally in the people from the Sky. Their leader, Clarke, is with us today.” Lexa gestured to Clarke, “Without her help we would not have returned victorious. Indeed, it is she that killed the mountain men. Swiftly, ruthlessly and in accordance with our laws.”

Now the crowd erupted into open discussion. Some people had the audacity to shout questions towards their Commander, though Lexa could not make out anything they were saying. She stood from her throne and glared into the crowd. Silence fell,

“The tree people and the sky people marched as one on the mountain. We went with the aim of rescuing our people. We hoped we could do this quickly, but plans rarely last in battle. The mountain men extended an offer to release our prisoners in exchange for keeping the sky people captive. I took the deal and ordered a retreat, leaving the sky people alone at the mountain. I know there are some of you out there who think I robbed you of your vengeance. There are some who think I dishonoured us all by turning my back on the alliance sky people. But I ask you now, why is Clarke here today?”

Now Lexa really concentrated on singling out the warriors she could see in the enraptured crowd. “She is here because as a leader, Clarke understands the sacrifices that have to be made in war. Had I not taken the deal, all eight hundred of our prisoners would have been killed in retaliation. So I walked away. If you think that that is not good enough, I implore you to ask someone who was trapped in the mountain. Or their family, ask them if it is good enough that we got them out unharmed.” Lexa’s voice was icy now. She took a moment and was pleased to see many warriors nodding as they were reminded of exactly why they went to war, who they fought for.

“We left that mountain, but in their over-confidence the Mountain Men did nothing about the sky people still trying to get into their walls. Clarke infiltrated the mountain. To save her people and complete the mission, she suffocated everyone inside by letting the outside air in.” Lexa paused again and glanced towards Clarke to make sure she was ok. Clarke sat stiffly in her chair, the general leaning close to her ear, waiting to translate. “When two groups ally together to face a larger enemy,” Lexa went on, “The larger enemy will do anything to fracture that alliance. The Mountain Men thought they had achieved that by forcing our army to retreat. But I think not. We marched as one and so our actions were made as one. If you are questioning whether it matters that it was the Sky people that crushed the mountain, it is not I who dishonours the alliance but you. They have proven themselves worthy allies. Strong allies. When Clarke of the Sky people let the mountain die she exacted justice for us all.”

From somewhere in the centre of the large crowd a lone voice rang out, chanting, ‘Clarke, Clarke, Clarke!’ It was soon picked up and joined with the chanting of ‘Skaikru! Skaikru en Trikru!’ Soon the noise was deafening. Lexa looked at Clarke again and found that she was looking towards her in bewilderment. Lexa allowed herself a satisfied smirk as she also began to chant Clarke’s name.

This went on for minutes until the noise died down naturally. Lexa had one last thing to say,

“When I united the twelve clans I did so not just to raise an army but to encourage continued peace. Our warriors fight and die so that you may live. So that you may find the time to enjoy life. Going forward I hope that this peace will hold, even as we welcome a thirteenth clan to the alliance. So let us celebrate today not just the end of a great threat, but the promise of a peaceful future. It has been hard won.”

Lexa sat back down to communicate that she had finished her address. There was a flurry of cheers and applause again. Then bit by bit the crowd dispersed back into the city, where they would party in the streets for the rest of the day. Lexa was confident that her speech ha had the desired effect. It had certainly warmed the civilians to Clarke’s presence. Also, from what she had seen of her warriors, they too had appreciated the reminder that life was about more than fighting, even in a society that held so much respect for it’s army.

But Lexa still felt ill at ease about the alliance of the clans. She had spoken of continued peace but many clan leaders had been killed by the missile. There were plenty of power vacuums waiting to be filled, not necessarily by people who shared her vision. And Lexa was most worried about the ice nation. It never took much to spark a war between the ice nation and the tree nation and now, in order to ensure the safety of Clarke’s people from her own, she had had to reveal a weakness. If there was any warrior left who still doubted her leadership, it would only take a handful of words to the right people to put that in motion.

Lexa shook those dark thoughts from her mind and concentrated instead on the festivities around her. The air was filled with music again and she could see people dancing and stamping their feet around fire barrels. She left her throne and went to Clarke and put her hand on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke turned to her with a smile,

“Assuming my translator did his job well, that was an amazing speech.”

“You shouldn't worry. Solomon’s English is excellent.”

Clarke grinned, “Thank you for what you said about me. And my people. I think it will keep them safe.”

Lexa offered a small smile back. She hoped Clarke was right to have such faith in her. “Are you hungry Clarke? You are my guest and that gives you the right to claim anything you want.”

“Yes!” Clarke’s eyes widened, “Lexa, find me the greasiest piece of meat in the city.”

Now Lexa laughed, “As you wish. Walk with me.”

They began to wander the streets together. Aldrin followed closely behind them, staying alert on their behalf.

“I’ve been thinking.” Clarke said, “I think I want to be a healer here. There are a lot of skills I can learn from your healer’s and they from me.”

“An excellent idea, Clarke. But you will need to learn our language. I think you should start going to our schoolroom.”

“You have a school?”

“Yes. It is the most efficient way to teach our children. Their parents have jobs to do and they do not become seconds until they are older.”

“So I’d be in class with a bunch of five year olds?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t you teach me?”

“My days will be busy. I do not want to waste the time we get together on trigedasleng lessons.” Lexa gave Clarke a meaningful look,

“What time does class start?” Clarke said and they both laughed. Lexa had to admit that she looked forward to really introducing Clarke to Trigeda culture. There was so much to learn. Then, maybe one day, when Clarke felt ready, they could travel to Camp Jaha together and Lexa could learn more about the sky people. And somehow make amends for what had happened at the mountain. Clarke wasn’t the only one who needed to forgive herself and make peace with her past. Lexa had been putting doing that off for two years. But now she had found someone who wouldn’t call her weak if she let her mask fall away every now and then. If she let the young woman beneath the Commander’s mantle out into the light of day again. As she watched Clarke gratefully accept a slice of boar meat- after Aldrin had tasted it first- the Commander wondered about who Clarke was going to become in Polis. But more, she wondered what she, Lexa, was like. She looked forward to finding out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's POV.  
> Well that's all folks, thanks for sticking with it until the very end. I have started the process of planning a sequel, so watch this space!  
> Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome. This is the first long fic I've written in a good while, so I hope you enjoy it.  
> Find me as pirateboots on Tumblr if you have a burning desire to swap and discuss headcanons, my ask box is always open :)
> 
> Mebi oso na hit choda up nodotaim x


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